October 18, 2015

Emma von Abele

There is no way of knowing,

Where this path is going,

If at all I breathe, or

If at all I’m growing.


I have no road to see,

I have no place to be,

My shoulders pointed down, just

The holes, the sky, and me.


I can hear no sound,

I only have the ground,

As I spin around

There is no way of knowing.